


Fireworks Over Big Ben

by shiptied



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheesy, Fireworks, First Kiss, Fluff, Harry's POV, M/M, Metaphors, POV Harry, The X Factor Era, basically just harry's internal struggle of falling in love, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, lots of them - Freeform, not much dialogue until the end, oh well, really cheesy, the other boys are just mentioned no one else talks whoops do they still count as characters then??, you know you love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiptied/pseuds/shiptied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes approximately three weeks for Harry to fall in love. </p><p>or </p><p>the one in which Harry starts to fall for his best friend, and it's not scary so much as it is exciting and confusing. Then there's some fireworks over Big Ben and Harry thinks it's really cliche. But hey, the best things in life are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks Over Big Ben

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy guys! :) So this is my first work on ao3, and I'm really excited for you guys to read it! I wrote this during a long car-trip for my bff Lillian, and I couldn't help but add as many cheesy metaphors as I could possibly think of. :P Hopefully I get some feedback?  
> Enjoy!  
> Follow my Instagram @ciaohana, comment 'Fireworks' on any pic, and you'll get a follow-back + spam  
> Oh, and check out my tumblr ~ ciaoloueh.tumblr.com
> 
> xxx

  It takes approximately three weeks for Harry to fall in love. 

  
  Week one he meets a boy; one with such a bright persona, one so eager to make you smile, it'd be impossible not to like him right away. Everyone does then, and just like that they've all made a new best friend. He gravitates around the room, leaving stars in his path--and that's what Harry thinks he is, a star that shines too brightly to be contained-- and he's stirring up excitement in all the contestants. He brings a new air of hope into the competition, making it seem like it's not really a battle, but a chance. Harry thinks he's lucky to be put in a band with a person like Louis.

  It makes him feel special, too, that Louis instantly latches onto him, using him as an anchor or such as he sails through the crowds, making waves that you can't help but be pulled along with-- and no one tries to help it anyways because it's a nice change from the fear that they give themselves. There really is no fear when Louis is around. Like, you can physically feel the stress draining out of you when you see his face, or hear his bird-like voice as he chirps out last week's tune. He's a source of happiness for everyone, especially Harry. 

  Harry, who's so far from home, for so much longer than he ever has been, has found a new sense of home in Louis. 

  By week two they're best friends. He knows so because Louis tells everyone, makes it evident to anyone who looks over and sees them cuddling on the sofa or whispering by the water fountain. It's happened much too quickly for Harry to process, and while he hasn't  _really_ known Louis that long, they've become closer than ever. Closer than he is with any of the other boys, but they're all like a family now, so it's not unusual. Harry's not sure what's considered normal anymore. He doesn't know if best friends should kiss you on the cheek when you hand them the remote, or if they should call you things like love or darling, but he doesn't question it because it's just Louis. 

  Harry calls his mum and Gemma and tells them all about Louis-- maybe not everything though, because he couldn't really explain most things if he tried. 

  Like the way Louis will reach behind three people to rest his hand on Harry's shoulder, and the way it makes Harry feel so important when he does.   

  It seems as though the others have noticed too-- the way Louis fixated himself on Harry, and now they're inseparable. It'd be hard  _not_ to notice really, because Louis likes making a show of the whole thing. Like when he flops down in Harry's lap, cooing in his ear and running his hands through Harry's curls while he makes it known to everyone that Harry is  _his_ and no one else's. 

  It's week three that things start to change. The lingering touches that seemed so natural before now cause Harry's skin to tingle and his stomach to drop unexpectedly. There's colour that rises to his cheeks when Louis calls him baby, even if it is just jokingly. Everything that seemed so casual before has suddenly flipped, and Harry's seeing it all in a new light-- he sees  _Louis_ in a new light, one that envelops him completely and makes him feel  _hot_ rather than just warm. And this time when Gemma asks how his boyfriend is, Harry's gut twists and he forces out a brief laugh before saying he has to go. No one understands just how much these things mean to him now. Certainly not Louis, who continues the excruciating sweetness despite how hard it is for Harry to control himself. He has to try so hard to not wrap his hands around Louis' neck, and now he's not even sure if he'd kiss him or strangle him because Louis' just making things so  _difficult._  


  
And now Liam's starting to notice, because when Louis rests his chin on Harry's shoulder and Harry feels like he's suffocating, Liam will give him a soft look of sympathy, one that does nothing but reassure the thoughts in Harry's mind that this is  _not_ normal and what's happening with Louis is bigger than he thought. He thinks it should be scary to admit to himself that he loves Louis. He should try to deny it, get upset, or something like that-- but instead he feels happy. He's never been in love before, but it's so exciting and rejuvenating, like he could fly or do anything else he wanted just because Louis is with him. He feels happy because even when he's sad, Louis is there to lift him up and he does it with such  _ease_ like he can only work when Harry is at his best. They're not even separate people anymore; they're two parts of a smooth running machine and everyone's happier when it's working properly. People don't even think of them as Louis and Harry anymore, because they're LouisandHarry now and everyone knows it. If Harry's sitting on the couch alone, someone will immediately come up to him and ask where Louis is. Harry will respond that's he's in the loo or something of the sort because they're right, it is unusual for the pair to be apart. 

  It doesn't seem to be a problem until Harry is overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of lust _._ It's pure  _want_ , and he's never felt anything so intense. It makes his head spin and his toes curl and every little touch Louis gives him leaves him internally screaming because he just can't get enough.   


  He's damn well sexually frustrated. And it certainly isn't fun, because he knows Louis' hand would feel a lot better than his own, and he doesn't know how to get it. He can't take looking at those perfect lips any longer because one of these days he's gonna leap forward and snog Louis' face off, and he's not sure that would end well at all. 

  Louis doesn't make things any better, because when he's there he's staring at Harry in such a way and letting his hand linger on Harry's thigh, and when he's gone Harry has this emptiness inside him that only Louis can fill. He's downright suffering now and he doesn't know what to do. 

  Week four, he decides he needs the advice of someone who will understand his situation, who will respond in a calm yet helpful way and not make a huge deal out of it-- so naturally, he goes to Zayn. 

  Harry explains his situation in a rush, only aware of a few words such as Louis, touch, infuriating, and love. Zayn seems to know exactly what he means. He doesn't freak out, and he doesn't demand Harry tell Louis right away. Instead he asks what's more important, keeping things the way they are with Louis, or risking it to have something more? He doesn't believe it's risking anything at all really, since Louis' going nowhere and they both know this, but it's a fair question nonetheless. 

  It takes Harry a while to decide what to do. Of course he  _wants_ to tell Louis, and it's not that he's scared that he'll lose him, but more afraid of being rejected. Because once Louis' said no, the looming question of does he feel the same will be gone. The spark of excitement when Louis looks at him like  _that_ willbe dead because Harry will know the truth. He'd almost rather have the hope of something that never was than that. 

  But no. No, he's not satisfied with that either. Zayn understands this because now is when he suggests Harry tell him the truth. He believes firmly what the answer will be, and Harry thinks maybe he does too. 

  When Liam pats him on the back the next day and motions to Louis sitting in the common room, Harry's sure Zayn told about their last conversation. He isn't upset. Really, he assumes the boys know already. He's not sure about Louis though, but it doesn't really matter because he'll know soon anyways. 

  It takes him until week six before he gets up the courage to actually do anything about it. 

  The two of them are standing outside on the balcony after a long day of rehearsals watching the swirl of London below, and Harry thinks it's really cliche that the sun is setting-- It's beautiful, but not nearly as much as Louis. His eyes are bluer than Harry's ever seen, resembling a creek or fresh rain or something else just as stunning, and Louis must notice him staring because he smiles a bit. It's just a small smile, his eyes still trained on the streets below, but it almost makes Harry swoon. 

  "Good job today," he says. His voice is something that could wake Harry up from a coma; it's so present and alive even when it's quiet. 

   "Thank you. You're amazing." Harry responds, and he means Louis' singing, but it doesn't matter because Louis chuckles and looks down at his keds. 

   "So are you," Louis responds easily, and Harry has a feeling he's not referring to his singing. 

   It's quiet then for a few minutes, both boys just enjoying each other's presence and the cool breeze that sweeps through the evening. There's this unspoken thing between them, this easy rhythm they've settled into during the last week, and Harry's not sure what it is but it's nice. Louis fills this space in Harry's mind and heart and he doesn't want to think about the idea of parting with him. 

  Louis seems to hear his thoughts because he turns to him and asks, "What's next?" And Harry's not sure what he means until Louis clarifies, "what happens to us after this ends?" 

   Harry assumes Louis means the competition, and even though he's been wondering the same thing the question still surprises him. 

   "What happens to all of us, or what happens--"

   "To  _us_ ," Louis confirms. "Me and you. Where do we stand once this is all over and we have to go home?"

   Harry can't bare to look at him right now because his heart is beating too fast and he's afraid he'll forget to speak if he meets those questioning blue eyes. "Where do we stand now?" He asks. 

   Louis' lips tighten, his hair falling in his eyes and he tosses it slightly, sighing in an impatient kind of way.   "I don't know." He admits. "I don't really know what we are, Harry. I know that you mean a lot more to me than I ever intended..." 

  Harry feels like there's a hand around his heart, squeezing and tightening and each beat is amplified, pounding through his body. 

   "You mean a lot to me, too." He tells him, and Louis' smiling again, a bit shyly which Harry's not used to. 

   "Look," he starts again. "I don't really want to go home. I mean, you're kind of my home too and I just can't bare the thought of never seeing you again if this all," he waves his hands around to gesture something big, "doesn't work out." 

  
Louis nods like he understands and agrees completely, and suddenly he's turning to face Harry, shoving his hands in the large pockets of his hoodie. "I had this idea." He says. "I'm not sure what you'll say or anything, but I'm sure we could work it out if, I mean... I was thinking." He looks up at Harry with a mischievous kind of hope in his eyes-- the kind that usually has Harry following him wherever he wants to go. "Maybe once this is over, regardless if we stay a band or not--which I'm really hoping we will, because these past weeks have been the best of my life for more reasons than one--that maybe you'd consider, I mean if you wanted to, maybe we could rent a flat in London together. I know we're still young, you especially I mean you're only sixteen," Harry doesn't point out that he'll be seventeen soon. "but I just figured we're so much better together in every way and I don't know if you feel the same way but I really really hope so." 

   Harry nods, and suddenly the air is too dense for him to breathe. He wants to tell Louis everything, and he's not quite sure how, but Louis' standing here watching him patiently and he knows it's now or never so he picks now-- 

  "Louis," he says quickly. "Yes, yes I want to move in with you that sounds wonderful. Mostly because I can't even remember what it was like to be without you, let alone what it will be like when you're gone and I just-- I don't want that to ever happen because I-- well m'kind of in love with you Louis, and I  _know_  we're young but it doesn't even  _matter_  because we have so much time and I want to spend it all with you--"

   He cuts off abruptly, taking in a much needed breath of air and looking down to find Louis much closer than he was before. The other boy backs him against the banister, putting a hand out to hold onto the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. 

   And Harry can't hear his heartbeat anymore. He can't hear anything but the rush of his own adrenaline, can't see or feel or  _taste_ anything but LouisLouisLouis and nothing has ever been quite so overwhelming and miraculous-- Louis soft lips pressed against his own, moving feverishly and desperately and his small hands locked at the base of Harry's neck. Their torsos are pressed together now, and if it weren't for the forceful pull he was feeling towards Louis Harry's afraid he might fall right off the balcony. 

  But then that fear is gone because they've somehow managed to slide from the banister to the wall and it's a lot easier to get leverage now as Harry's hands find their way to grip Louis' arse, a sharp breath sounding from the other boy, and he pokes his tongue between Harry's lips, whom, pliant as ever, grants access immediately. 

   Harry doesn't even consider the fact that someone might see them out here--doesn't care really because Louis is making small sounds of pleasure that go straight between Harry's legs, making his brain fog up and he's not really aware of anything else at the moment than the pure bliss of being so  _close_  to Louis, sharing breaths and moving together as if they were one. And  _god,_ if this is what kissing Louis is like then he needs to be doing it all the time, and he can't even  _imagine_ what it would be like to go further, erase the warning signs telling them to stop and just let go, falling into each other and losing themselves like they do in their music. Harry thinks he and Louis could make something more beautiful together than they ever could on stage. And he wants to find out-- he doesn't want to stop because that means starting over again and Harry hates that. He just wants to keep going, following Louis down any path he chooses because it doesn't even matter where they go as long as they're going together. 

   When they finally break for air Louis' cheeks are flushed and his pupils are blown, lips red and bitten. Harry is so turned on he can barely remember to pull back, and he's still hovering over Louis' face with a dazed look. "Fuck-" he gets out. 

   Louis smiles, which quickly grows into a laugh. He braces his hands on Harry's shoulders and presses his face into his tshirt. "Wow," he says softly. 

   Harry wraps his arms around Louis and holds him closely, breathing heavily against the rough wall. "Yeah," he agrees. He's surprised at how raspy his voice is already. He's suddenly aware that it wouldn't take much for Louis to have him completely undone, and his thoughts wander so wildly that there's a dramatic change in the tightness of his jeans. Louis then laughs again, and Harry grins because he's always loved Louis' laugh. 

   "I love you too, just by the way." Louis tells him.

  It's impossible, Harry thinks, because he can't  _actually_  be seeing fireworks-- that's just for movies and cheesy novels--but sure enough there's a loud CRACK and a burst of colour over Louis' shoulder. 

   Louis turns, laughing once more at the sheer irony and wonder of it all. There are fireworks exploding over Big Ben and Louis kisses Harry again, putting his hands on his cheeks and shutting his eyes tightly. 

   Whatever fear of rejection that Harry had before was completely gone now, replaced by a warm tingling starting from his chest and spreading all the way down through his fingers and toes. 

   "What are the fireworks for you think?" Harry asks. 

   Louis responds, "us." with a smile that resembles sunshine or something else cheesy because Louis deserves every cheesy metaphor in the book. 

   Harry smiles then, because it really doesn't matter. The fireworks could be for anything, but to Louis and Harry it will always mean something special. And it doesn't matter what anyone else will say-- All that matters right now is the boy standing in front of him and the lingering taste of him on Harry's lips. 

  Louis reaches down and interlaces their fingers, and the small touch is so reassuring, so full of hope, and Harry can feel so many beautiful things blooming. 

   "Someday," he says, and he leaves it at that. 

   Harry knows what he means. Someday there'll be fireworks in honour of them and all they've done. Their hard work will pay off in the end and they both know it-- all the boys do. 

  But it doesn't really matter how long it takes. He won't be alone. 


End file.
